


Licorice Allsorts

by Everett_Harte



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Family History, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mythology References, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-07 05:52:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1887354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everett_Harte/pseuds/Everett_Harte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a collection for small pieces.  I may expand on these or they might stay short, who knows.</p><p>Ch.1: Will and Hannibal meet while trying to kill the same person.<br/>Ch.2: Will and Hannibal: The Phoenix and The Dragon</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Will and Hannibal meet while trying to kill the same person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1000 words is so hard for me, I'm long winded as fuck. But it was good to have a restriction for myself, to tighten up my writing.

There wasn’t much different in his nightly routine.  He set out leisurely, with a person in mind.  He prepared and set out in his car, parking off to the side of a large nature preserve.  His potential victim jogged nightly through a very specific trail, one that ran conveniently through a heavily wooded area.  Hiking up before was easy, waiting was the hard part.  He heard his jogger coming up the trail and prepared his favorite weapon, before he walked onto the trail, stopping his victim abruptly.

He was quick, stabbing the fishing harpoon into the man’s chest before pulling back, the large barb catching on his ribcage.  With a quick twist, he destroyed a lung and the heart; his jogger falling to his knees with a gurgling gasp.  Will Graham took a moment to rip out the harpoon, breaking through ribs and tearing through skin, before he noticed another man, further down the trail, behind his victim.  He was dressed in plastic suit, with a soft spray of blood covering his face and front; his harpoon had been rather messy.  The stranger looked vaguely put out and menacing.

“I do hope you realize that you took a kill away from me.  Not only that, you ruined perfectly good meat.”

Will laughed, holding his bloodied harpoon over his shoulder, “Who would eat this pig?”

The other man looked affronted, “Me, in fact.  Or at least that was the original intent of the night.”

Will could see it, this man dressed in his bespoke suit and plastic outerwear, planning on a hunt after a stressful day.  Being as meticulous with his planning as he was with his dress. 

Really though, what else did he have to do for the rest of the night anyways?

“Alright, how about you try and kill me?  You can eat me if you can kill me,” he said as he threw his harpoon off to the side of the trail.

The man looked shocked for a moment, before a feral grin took over.  He ran toward Will with a speed he hadn’t expected, gracefully jumping over the dead body, before grabbing onto the lapels of Will’s jacket.  From there, it was an all-out brawl, harsh punches to soft areas.

Will managed a good hit to the man’s sternum, giving him some breathing room.  “You move pretty good for an old man, I’ll give you that,” he said as he wiped at the blood dripping down his chin.

“Hannibal Lecter.  If you’re going to call me something in the last moments of your life, you would do well to use my name.”

“Confident?  Fine, Will Graham.  Remember that.”

Will struck out, intending on a headlock.  Instead, they ended up grappling on the trail before they ended up rolling off the embankment further into the woods.  They kicked, and scratched, nearing an animalistic fury as each tried to dominate the other.  It would have continued in much the same way, rolling along dried leaves, if Will hadn’t surged forward to try and constrict Hannibal’s rib cage.  His hips bumped against something entirely not expected.

“Fuck, you’re hard.  You’re turned on by this.”

Their struggles stopped for a moment as they stared at each other in shock. 

Hannibal looked momentarily contrite, “Difficult to avoid I’m afraid.”

Huh.  After that, Will’s decision was rather easy. 

If you can’t fight them, why not fuck them?  In the most literal sense of the word. 

“How about I propose something different.”

Hannibal appeared interested again, his grip on Will’s biceps not loosening, but shifting.  “And what would you propose?”

From there, Will acted without any self-preservation, he only hoped the predator before him didn’t change his mind.  He moved one hand to the zipper of the plastic suit, taking care in pulling it down.  Hannibal went still, his grip turning harder before he stopped himself.  From there, there were more layers, shifting the suit jacket and unzipping the trousers, before Will pulled out Hannibal’s cock.  He gave a few cursory pumps along the foreskin, thumbing along the head, before glancing up.

“This okay?” He asked.

Hannibal simply removed his hands from Will’s shoulders, and moved to unzip Will’s own jeans, pulling out his rapidly hardening member. 

And it was like he was in high school again, a mutual jerk off session in some clandestine place.  Instead of after school, it was with another serial killer deep in the woods near Baltimore.     

“H-hey.  Can I kiss you?  Or would that be strange?”

That got him the first laugh of the night, “I think with the matters at hand,” Hannibal gave a sharp squeeze, “That a kiss would be the least strange event to happen tonight.”

Hannibal was quick to surge forward, aligning their torsos and gripping hard on the back of Will’s neck, nails cutting into his hairline as he held him tightly in place.  His mouth wasn’t just lovely, it was full of sharp teeth that bit and tore at Will’s lips, lapping at the blood before lapping into his mouth.

For the first time in a long time, Will’s mind wasn’t buzzing with the thoughts of others, nor his own dark thoughts that increased daily.  He was simply suspended in a moment.  The empath felt content.

They finished quickly, the adrenaline and fight perhaps.  Hannibal chased after Will’s lips as he pulled away, licking away the last blood remnants along his chin.

“I need to clean up the body,” Will said as he tucked himself back in.

Hannibal stood and put himself back to order, “Perhaps you can let me do that.  An apology of sorts for the evening starting so differently.”

Will could only smile back.  As they walked and crested the embankment, Will picking up his harpoon, he gave a quick nod to his momentary companion before he made it back to his car.

Later, in Jack’s office, when a psychiatrist was called in to help with the Shrike investigation, Will could only smile back sharply to match Hannibal’s own.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love it when people make Will a serial killer and he's 'The Fisherman'. It's adorable!


	2. Will and Hannibal: The Phoenix and The Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been an idea I've been playing with but have never been able to use. It's a little weird and Hannibal is sort of creepy/manipulative. You know, like the show. Some notes at the end to explain~

One of Hannibal’s greatest points of family pride was not, as many would expect, a love for the Lecter house and subsequent title.  But instead, he had a greater appreciation for his mother’s families, the Visconti and Sforzas of Milan.  The Visconti family was old, and even as its last male heir died in 1447, Bianca Maria Visconti carried on the much beloved house symbol into the Sforza family she married into.  The symbol was easily incorporated within the new shared coat of arms, paired alongside the original crowned eagles.  The beloved symbol, the _biscione,_ a serpent, was seen devouring a person, a crown hovering over its head.  His father had often said it was a symbol of power; something to show how enemies of the old family line would be dealt with.  But what his mother would always tell him was that was simply what others saw.  The other interpretation was of rebirth, the serpent giving birth to man.  The duel nature had fascinated him as a child.  Inevitably, what was life and death but a fine line?  When he was older and alone with his thoughts, enjoying a glass of wine, he would remember her words. 

As he let Will burn hot with fever and enjoyed the sweet scent, he saw possibility in his mother’s words, another avenue to follow.  It inevitably led him to remember another piece that could be useful.  His aunt had spoken to him for hours daily when he was young; mute and nearly catatonic, he held onto those words to keep himself grounded in his own mind and not in memories.  Even if he broke a teacup to hope it would one day return un-shattered, hoping to one day get his dear Mischa back, he would always sit and pay attention to Lady Murasaki’s words.  She took her time with him, even when his uncle had simply tried to pass him off to numerous therapists to try and speed up his recovery.  Hannibal learned a great appreciation for patience from her thoughtful attempts to engage him.  She soon filled his silence with stories he had never heard of from Japan and China.  He became especially attached to the myths surrounding the phoenix and the dragon; myths of rebirth, divine right, and power.  Her words grounded him in the present and he found another way to cope with his memories.  He had held onto his mother’s family tightly in his memory, crafting the first place of his memory palace after the Archbishop’s palace, Piazza del Duomo in Milan.  The large light filled plaza with the Visconti coat of arms prominently displayed on the palace’s side held the memories of his mother.  He held tightly to her smile, the perfume she wore, her laugh.  He held onto the idea of the _biscione_ , a dragon in all but name.  For who else would in his new home with a new Count Lecter?

As he finished his wine, he settled on a course of action.  Hannibal’s other possibility came swiftly with careful manipulation.  Will Graham burned fever-hot and disappeared into Chilton’s care, only to be released with Hannibal’s maneuverings; the FBI turning their eyes elsewhere for their killer.  Will Graham returned righteous, seeking justice; every bit as much as the phoenix Hannibal envisioned him as.  The counterpart to the dragon, the phoenix was said to be a power sent from the heavens; an epitome of morality.  The fact that the phoenix was considered the cardinal guardian for the South did not miss his notice, nor that the dragon was the guardian of the East.  Even from such different beginnings and geographical regions, they still found each other. 

And as Will rose from the heat of his fever, from the near destruction of his normal life that Hannibal had orchestrated, he rose in challenge to Hannibal’s dragon, the embodiment of authority and power.  And that was the crux of the matter; the phoenix and dragon either doomed to fight for supremacy or coexisting in a harmonious partnership.  Hannibal had always favored the possibility of some deep connection, the ideal of an imperial marriage was something that soothed him as Will fought against Hannibal’s carefully laid plans.  But Hannibal could always wait, patience was something he had in abundance; a parting gift from his aunt.  For what was a phoenix if it wasn’t completely burned to ash; how much better would Will be when he rose from his old life, re-forged into something far better than he ever was.

After Miriam Lass and Will saw how disillusioned she had become, the quid pro quo of a killer sent to his house, Will finally shattered.  He finally _burned_ and returned to Hannibal with the body of the man that tried to kill him.  The inelegance of the death, with his own hands, was something so profoundly different to Will’s typical personality that Hannibal knew all his plans had come to fruition.  The phoenix had finally risen from the ashes of its former life.  Hannibal’s perfect partner had finally descended to take his place beside him.

The _biscione_ of his mother’s house finally became something tangible; the memory of such a revered symbol never forgotten.  It was still as carefully crafted on the Piazza del Duomo in his mind palace as he had made into reality.  It became something like she had whispered to him so long ago: the rebirth of man from the jaws of a serpent.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are honestly reasons for this. When I first really got into Hannibal, I looked into his family. I was really interested in his mother, Simonetta Sforza-Lecter. Did you know Hannibal is half Italian? :D Her families are actual historical lines, the Visconti and Sforzas, and are pretty easy to look up. But I really loved their coat of arms and just got hit with all the serpent imagery. And then on the show Will had a fever and was burning up, and all I could think was 'Phoenix and Dragon'.
> 
> So, the phoenix and dragon are a pair of symbols used in Asian cultures. Typically, the phoenix has come to be related to the empress, and the dragon, the emperor. They've also come to represent marriage; when their energies are balanced, its peaceful, when it isn't, there's conflict. But, obviously, this is sort of Hannibal's take on it with the Visconti spin. He pretty much manipulated and destroyed Will to keep him XD


End file.
